


Sleepless

by Di1emma



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, In a way, M/M, but its also cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-15 21:41:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12329424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Di1emma/pseuds/Di1emma
Summary: It's in the dead of night that Hux can reflect on his emotions, and what Kylo Ren means to him.





	Sleepless

**Author's Note:**

> title mostly comes from the fact that i wrote this at 2 am cause i couldn't sleep but enjoy i guess

There was a time Hux was allowed to find things precious, to hold things dearly, to find personal value in things and places and people. That was in a time far behind him, in a place barely teetering on the edge of memory. He didn't need to hold onto it, he could let it fall off the precipice of his mind and let it shrink into oblivion beyond his conscious thought. Perhaps then he would stop waking in a cold sweat, visions of faces he hadn't seen in years and would never see again dancing behind his eyes.

Some nights he wished he could rip them out, dig his fingers into the sockets and claw until the memories bled out. It was disgraceful to be so clearly vulnerable; he was a general, a soldier, a killer. Dreams of his childhood should not shake him, they should not break him down to a trembling mess in the dead of the simulated night. It would be so easy, to let it go, to forget it all; as easy as breathing and blinking, yet he never did. He never would. He was selfish, horrendously selfish, to hold on to useless memories as he did. He supposed it only fair that he should pay the price.

It had become an almost practiced routine, as another false night would fall over the ship, another dream, another flickering smile of a woman who had once been Mother. Though, as he sat up in bed, running his hands over his sweat caked skin, there was a rustling beside him; a hand reached out blindly for him, landing in his lap. Hux left it there, though his eyes drifted to his bedmate, or rather, the one he was the bedmate to. 

Dark hair fanned out over the pillow, though not in a soft, halo-esque way -- reality was not a romance novel after all -- but in a curly tangled mess. Hux found he much preferred it that way; a halo would not suit either of them. 

“You're thinking too loud.” pale lips murmured to him as deep brown eyes opened to peer up at him. He met the gaze unwavering, noting the slight raise of the other's brow; a challenge any other time, but now merely a question. He knew better than to think it was out of worry, the other was merely curious, or perhaps just wanted to get back to sleep as quickly as possible.

Without thinking Hux reached out, pinching a clump of unruly black hair which was blocking his view of those dark eyes, and tucked it gently back behind the other man’s ear. He earned a small amused huff in return as the hand which had been laying in his lap wrapped around his waist to tug at him impatiently. Hux wanted to roll his eyes, shake his head, call the other man a child, but found himself instead settling back down onto the mattress. He allowed himself to be pulled into an embrace and laid his arm loosely over the other man’s thin midsection for lack of anywhere else to put it.

Hux often found himself mildly surprised by how warm Kylo Ren could be. Mostly physically, the other man practically radiated heat while his own skin was often chilly and unpleasant to touch. That never seemed to deter Kylo Ren, the hands curled into his hair and against his hip and the arms holding him against a warm chest more than enough proof of that. What confused him more so was his own lack of reluctance to allow this behavior, to let Kylo Ren hold him like this. What was the point to it, what were they doing this for?

Yes there had once been a time he was able to grow attached, able to love, to hold things in his heart, but that was a long long time ago. This? This was for convenience, for morale. Nothing more.

That is, until he had seen Kylo Ren bleeding out into the snow. When his heart had beat so fast he was certain he was about to faint or perhaps just keel over dead from a heart attack. When his muscles had trembled with the strain of maintaining composure, of giving orders instead of running to the other's side to carry him back to the ship himself.

Now he knew, as he held Kylo Ren in the dead of simulated night, he knew that somehow this disaster, this raging black tempest of barely a human being, had dug and clawed and squirmed his way into Hux’s stone heart. There would be no way to get him out, and Hux was disgusted with himself. This was weakness and weakness was not tolerable, and yet he was addicted at the same time. Addicted to the wrongness, to the heat, to the sound of his voice.

Kylo Ren may have wormed his way in like a parasite, but Hux would be damned if he ever let him go.


End file.
